


Coming Out in the Forest

by 1478963255



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Coming Out, Dirty Talk, First Time Topping, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Kissing, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 07:04:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1478963255/pseuds/1478963255
Summary: Sylvain wants to improve his magic and so asks Linhardt to help teach him, though he is unimpressed with Sylvain's lack of effort. The two begin to talk and Linhardt quickly realises that there is more to Sylvain than what meets the eye. They venture deeper into the forest where Sylvain confesses something to Linhardt.M/M relationship. Fluff and smut, very romantic, outdoor sex, first time being gay. Anonymous request.Any feedback and comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading!





	Coming Out in the Forest

“Sylvain, if you aren’t going to put some serious effort in, I’ve got more important things to do. Like sleep.”

“I’m trying! I really am!”

Linhardt leaned his chin into his palm, staring at Sylvain with an ounce of disdain and a tonne of boredom. His eyes were half-lidded, and he stifled a yawn with his free hand, dropping it to pluck at the grass of the field they sat on. Linhardt had ventured outside of Garreg Mach, to the open fields and the treelines to study the flowers that grew only there. He had, much to his dismay, stumbled upon Sylvain who was trying to woo another girl.

Unsuccessful with his flirting, Sylvain started to sulk. He had spotted Linhardt and decided to bother him with his flirting troubles and eventually started to pester him about teaching him magic, thinking it’d impress the ladies more if he were a man of magic. Begrudgingly and against his better judgement, Linhardt agreed. 

They had been trying for the better part of an hour and Sylvain had made little to no progress. His face was red with effort and his hair was messier than usual with the frustrated tugging he did whenever his spell fizzled out.

Linhardt tugged at and pulled the grass out of the ground watching Sylvain. His effort were pitiful. He wasn’t channelling his energy, focus or power properly even if he could see that he had an innate ability: his crest said so.

“You aren’t focusing,” he said.

Sylvain’s eyes were blown wide and he screamed back at Linhardt, frustrated. “I am! I don’t know how the _fuck_ else I’m supposed to focus!”

Linhardt yawned and plucked a daisy, starting to pull at its petals one by one, bored. “I told you; think of the fire inside you, in your chest, and imagine it running through your veins, to your hands. Once you get that, you can get all the other spells easily.”

Sylvain swore under his breath and held his wrist with his other hand so tightly he was almost cutting off the blood flow. He stared at his hand, willing the flames to appear in his palm but all he found was that his head was spinning, and his face was getting redder and redder. His chest felt fit to bursting until he let out a wheezing gasp and staggered backwards, light-headed.

Linhardt rolled his eyes and tutted. “You really aren’t focusing.”

Sylvain lay collapsed in the grass and stared through the trees. Blue skies sparkled through the leaves and he gazed upwards, trying to regain his breath, silver stars dancing in his vision.

“I’m trying. I _really_ am.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

Sylvain huffed and turned to glare at Linhardt, who was plucking petals from another daisy, tossing the stalk away. They locked eyes and he scoffed again, returning his gaze to stare up through the treeline.

“Professor said if I didn’t improve my magic, I wouldn’t be able to take the dark knight certification exam.”

“You certainly won’t pass at this rate.”

Sylvain groaned and rubbed his palms into his eyes as deeply as he could until shapes swam behind his eyelids. Linhardt watched him: he had always thought of him as a womanizer, and an awful one at that. Despite his reputation for flirting, Linhardt couldn’t recall a single time a woman had spoken positively of their interaction with Sylvain. Not only that, he thought he was lazy, never taking the time to train or practice more than he needed to, coasting by with a lackadaisical attitude.

“Teach says I have an ‘afility’ for it… whatever that means.” Linhardt winced.

“Affinity.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Linhardt shook his head and rubbed at his temples, feeling the frustration starting to culminate in a dull headache. “I can’t believe it.”

“Teach said that I have an affinity for it and that I can do magic if I really try.”

Sylvain raised one of his arms into the air, spreading his fingers out and staring at the sky through the gaps of his fingers. Linhardt watched his face: it had a disappointed expression painted across it. Sylvain turned his hand over and then let it drop onto his stomach, closing his eyes and breathing in the cool air, letting the grass tickle his ears and the nape of his neck.

“I’m frustrated cause I’m actually trying for once and I can’t do it.”

“You expect to be able to do it just because you put a bit of effort in?”

Sylvain huffed some air out through his nose and shrugged. “When you put it that way, it sounds bad.”

“Because it is bad.”

“I know.” There was silence between them, and the wind blew through the trees, stirring the grass and the flowers awake at the forest’s edge. Sylvain opened his eyes and glanced over at Linhardt before sitting up. He pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned on them and Linhardt could tell he was mulling over some thoughts in his head.

“You know,” Sylvain began, wringing his wrists with his hands nervously. “I didn’t expect to find you out here, but I’m glad I did.”

“Really now?”

Sylvain tossed Linhardt a dull expression dramatically, rolling his head against his shoulders as he did so. “Yes, really.”

Linhardt snorted incredulously.

“I’m glad I found you ‘cause I know you’re good with magic and you’re not like Mercedes who’s too kind to tell me I’m awful, or like Marianne who’s too afraid to talk to me, period, or like Hubert who’s just downright petrifying…”

Linhardt snickered and Sylvain laughed a little too. He looked up and his hazel eyes met Linhardt’s big sapphire ones, who were now relaxed and soft.

“But you… you’re really good with magic and as much as it sounds like I hate it, I really appreciate you telling me like it is and being honest. I appreciate you telling me that I’m, basically, awful. It does help.”

Linhardt was stunned by Sylvain’s words. He didn’t expect such sincerity from the lazy Blue Lion womanizer. His fingers stilled plucking the petals of the daisies and he shifted around on the grass. “It’s… no problem.”

Sylvain laid back down on the grass and stared back into the treeline. He let an airy laugh pass his lips. “I’m probably a pain to teach.”

“… you are.”

Sylvain laughed heartily then and Linhardt hid his giggle in his fist. He watched the other’s scarlet hair blowing in the wind, fluffy and wild. His skin was smooth and tinted very faintly a more golden tone than peach. His eyes were bright and his face calmer than his frustrated expression before.

“You’ll get it eventually,” Linhardt said. Sylvain turned his head.

“Really?”

“I think so. I can feel it too; you have this ability in you but… for some reason, it’s not quite there yet. So, if you keep trying, I think you can do it.”

Sylvain blinked a few times and then beamed brightly, flashing a straight white dazzling smile Linhardt’s way. His eyes shut and turned into crescents with how animatedly he smiled.

“Thanks! That means a lot coming from you, Lin!”

The green-haired boy flushed at the nickname; Sylvain had never called him that before though, he didn’t dislike it. To his left, Sylvain stirred and stood up, stretching so that his back arched, and his shirt rode up a little. Linhardt’s eyes danced down his body; it was slim and toned, not as much as Caspar’s, but it was pleasant to look at all the same.

“Can we walk? I wanna keep talking to you.”

Linhardt nodded and stood, brushing the plucked grass and petals from his lap and stood beside Sylvain. The way that the sun streamed through the treeline left peppered freckles of light on Sylvain’s face. His hazel eyes glimmered, and his crimson hair glinted in the light and Linhardt, just for a moment, was stunned by how handsome the other boy was.

“Yeah… lead the way,” he managed to get out.

The pair walked in silence through the forest, dipping under low branches and stepping over rocks, roots and collapsed trunks. Sometimes, Sylvain held his hand out for Linhardt to take when they skipped over shallow streams and Linhardt took it delicately every time, skipping across the stones as he did so.

It was quiet and peaceful, something the pair hadn’t experienced for a while: with all the exams, lectures, training and duties they had to attend to, it was rare for them to have free time and even rarer for it to be peaceful. The two roamed deeper into the forest and Linhardt was entranced by the flowers that grew there.

He stooped to cradle a delicate purple flower with curling scarlet stamens, topped with a golden anther. His fingers grazed against it and he rubbed his fingertips together, spreading the pollen over his skin, staining it yellow. Sylvain watched, leaning back against a tree, admiring Linhardt’s indulgence.

“You like flowers?”

Linhardt nodded and turned to another flower that was impossibly small and bloomed into thousands of tiny baby blue buds. He nestled the petals in his fingers, caressing them with a touch so feather-light it was barely there. “Yes, quite a lot.”

“How come?”

Linhardt hummed. “They’re kind of like Crests; they’re all different and have different qualities. I’ve never seen either of these before and would love to study them more.”

“Then why don’t you pick them and take them with you?”

Linhardt glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “If I do, they’ll eventually die. I’d rather leave them be and just study them like this.”

Sylvain considered his words and watched him again. He was so gentle and his green ponytail tumbled down his back, he almost looked like a girl. His frame was slim, his waist narrow and his face… _it was so pretty._ Sylvain’s cheeks heated up, turning a little rosy.

“Linhardt.”

“Mmhm.”

“Can I be honest?”

Linhardt stood up and tilted his head at Sylvain. “Of course.”

“Don’t worry, it’s about me, not you,” Sylvain laughed awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head. A kind of hot nervousness was welled up in his chest and was threatening to choke him. His throat tightened and he could feel he was getting hotter under the collar, tugging at it a little to try and fan himself.

“I, uh… you know, I’m quite… I like to flirt, right?”

“Of course, everyone knows that.”

Sylvain laughed nervously again. “Yeah, well… I flirt with women a lot because… I try to weed out the bad ones.”

“Weed out the bad ones?” Linhardt shook his head, confused.

“I know I’m good-looking, and I’m a noble with a Crest so I know a lot of women want me… but it’s just for my Crest. Honestly, it really sucks. I never know when women are being honest with me.”

Linhardt remained silent, listening attentively. He didn’t expect Sylvain to pour his heart out to him in the middle of the forest, but he wasn’t going to stop him. The other man was staring at the grass and kicking his feet about lazily, hands shoved into his pockets where he was probably fidgeting and toying with the fibres apprehensively.

“I know one day I’ll just get married off to some noble girl and we’ll have Crest babies and that’ll be my life. Just thinking about it makes me really depressed, you know? I’m just being used for my Crest so I flirt with girls and hope that maybe I’ll find the right one for me.”

Linhardt folded his arms over his chest and cocked his hips to the side. “And how’s that working out for you?”

Sylvain laughed darkly. “Not very well, I gotta admit.”

“So why do you keep doing it?”

“Cause I’m trying to figure myself out.”

Linhardt quirked an eyebrow at Sylvain. He stayed quiet, kicking the grass and then met Linhardt’s curious gaze, suddenly sheepish and embarrassed. “Aw, come on man, don’t make me say it out loud.”

“Well, I’m not a mind reader so you’re going to have to.”

Sylvain gnawed at his lower lip, hanging his head. His back hit the tree behind him and he bounced off it, pensive and uneasy. Linhardt watched him and made an expression as if to say ‘well?’ when Sylvain still didn’t speak. He groaned and pulled his hair again, like he did when he was practicing magic.

“I think…”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m gay.”

Linhardt’s eyes went wide. Sylvain was staring at him and Linhardt dared not make a wrong expression. Sylvain was coming out to him. The womanizer of Garreg Mach, the studhorse of House Gautier, was coming out as _gay_ to Linhardt. He swallowed and let a gentle smile grace his face.

“That’s okay.”

Sylvain stood back upright and leaned against the tree, arms hanging by his side, defeated. He didn’t know how he felt; relieved, confused, annoyed, proud, a whole whirlpool of emotions swirling around uncomfortably in his head and stomach.

“You flirt with all these girls not just because of your Crest but because you’re unsure of your sexuality?”

Sylvain nodded, training his eyes on the ground. He kicked a dandelion and the seeds puffed and blew away in the wind. He swallowed over the lump in his throat.

“I can’t say that you breaking all these girls’ hearts is okay,” Linhardt began. “But you being gay? That’s totally fine with me. I understand how you feel.”

Sylvain raised his head and gazed at Linhardt. They shared a moment where the green-haired boy accepted and totally understood Sylvain’s questions about himself. He took a few steps towards Sylvain and stuck his hand out. Sylvain took it nervously and swallowed again. Linhardt pulled him to the ground and the pair sat back down on the grass, Sylvain still leaning against the tree.

“I get how you feel. All these questions like ‘is this okay?’, ‘am I weird?’, and ‘what will my friends think of me?’. I’ve had them before too.”

Sylvain gasped, shocked. “You mean… you are…?”

Linhardt frowned and stuck his bottom lip out. “It’s not obvious?”

Sylvain shook his head back and forth vigorously. “No. I just thought you were really gentle, graceful and fashionable, is all.”

Linhardt laughed. “Well, thank you. But no, I totally get how you feel. Do you feel any better saying it aloud?”

Sylvain nodded and squeezed Linhardt’s hand. “Thank you.”

“It’s alright.”

Silence fell once more between them however; it was a serene quiet. It was comfortable and both relaxed into it, still holding hands in the silence that surrounded them. Sylvain’s eyes slid shut and his crimson hair fell into his face as he tilted his head back to hit the bark of the tree, content, with a smile across his lips.

“Are you sure you’re gay though?”

Sylvain jolted upright and looked at Linhardt who was gazing at him with a puzzled expression. Sylvain’s face turned red and he felt the heat burning the tips of his ears.

“I-I… uh, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if you’ve decided you don’t like women… are you _sure_ you like men?”

Sylvain stuttered and Linhardt thought it adorable, watching him try to formulate a response. “I-I haven’t exactly… tested or tried anything yet, no…”

“But you’re sure?”

“I mean, I don’t like women so… I must be gay, right?”

Linhardt hummed and moved onto his knees to face Sylvain. “Not necessarily. You might be asexual. You know what that means?” Sylvain shook his head from side to side vigorously. “It means that you can be attracted to someone but that it doesn’t necessarily have to be _sexual._ Do you feel that way?”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, if you think of a woman sexually, how do you feel?”

Sylvain’s face scrunched up in a kind of disgusted way and Linhardt laughed at how adorable he looked with a scrunched-up nose. “Nuh-uh, no way. I don’t like it.”

“Haha! So, what happens when you think about another man?”

Sylvain went quiet for a moment and thought about it. The rising red blush to his face was all the answer Linhardt needed.

“It’s not… bad.”

“No?”

“I mean… the idea of it isn’t… bad to me,” Sylvain admitted, scratching the side of his nose as he gazed at Linhardt. He was suddenly aware that they were still holding hands, but he didn’t want to let go. Linhardt considered his words for a moment.

“If you had to… kiss a man… would you do it?”

Sylvain swallowed and gawked dumbly at Linhardt, trying to avoid his piercing blue stare. The idea was pleasant to Sylvain and actually excited him considerably. “I… would.”

“Would you care to test that?”

A strangled noise escaped Sylvain’s lips but Linhardt just kept staring at him. He knew exactly what he was implying, and he wasn’t revulsed by the idea and in fact, quite liked it. Sylvain darted his tongue out over his lips and shrugged, as if trying to play cool.

“I mean… how else will I know?”

Linhardt smiled and crawled between Sylvain’s sprawled legs, placing a hand on his shoulder so that their faces were inches apart. Sylvain could feel his warm breath across his face and could smell the sweetness of Linhardt’s everything. His breath was shaky, and he was cursing himself for being so worked up over a simple kiss. He had kissed plenty of people before… though none of them had been boys.

“O-Okay then…” Sylvain said, putting a hand on Linhardt’s cheek and drawing him in until their lips met. It was a brush of the lips at first that then deepened with a firm press against one another. Sylvain was grateful he had wet his lips before-hand and he sighed into the kiss. Linhardt’s lips were soft and plush. Sylvain’s hand was shaking against Linhardt’s skin and so the green-haired boy put his hand over Sylvain’s to calm him.

They broke apart and stared at one another.

“How was that?” Linhardt asked. Sylvain breathed steadily but deeply, trying to collect his thoughts. He cleared his throat and brushed his thumb under Linhardt’s eye, over his cheek and tried his best.

“I don’t know… I think I need another taste.”

Linhardt laughed and shook his head, leaning their foreheads together. “You are the worst. Has that line ever worked?”

“I think it’s about to,” Sylvain grinned, pulling Linhardt in for another kiss. Their lips met and Linhardt tilted his head so that their lips could glide better against one another. He rested a hand on Sylvain’s chest, shuffling in closer on his knees, grass staining his uniform, but he didn’t care. Their lips rubbed against one another’s, brushing over and over again with a newfound vigour.

Sylvain swiped his tongue along Linhardt’s bottom lip, and he fisted the front of Sylvain’s button-up shirt, opening his mouth happily. They moaned in unison, Sylvain’s hand moving from Linhardt’s cheek to tangle in his hair and play with his ponytail, tugging gently at it and the silky ribbon holding it up. He pulled it free and let it fall between his fingers, tugging and smoothing at the soft emerald tresses cascading down the other boy’s back.

Their tongues danced together, intensity building as the tips flicked back and forth over one another, sending electricity straight to Sylvain’s groin. He groaned and pulled Linhardt in closer, wanting to drown in the other boy. Linhardt pushed against Sylvain’s chest, desperate for air, which he finally received, gasping and taking it in gratefully.

Sylvain pulled Linhardt’s hair over his shoulder, stroking it, bringing it to his nose and inhaling his scent; it smelled like clean lavender, like flowers and like papyrus. He stared at the other’s face, dazzled. “You are… so beautiful for a boy.”

Linhardt quirked an eyebrow. “For a boy?”

Sylvain stammered and tried to think of an answer but Linhardt’s quick kiss against his lips eased his panic. “I’m joking.”

Sylvain sighed full of relief and ran a hand down the other’s face, cupping his chin. “I mean… you’re beautiful. _Period._”

“Better,” Linhardt grinner, kissing the corner of Sylvain’s mouth. He peppered his face with kisses and the other smiled widely, tilting his face so Linhardt could follow his jawline and moved up to his Sylvain’s ear. He sucked the earlobe into his mouth and rolled his tongue over it and Sylvain let out a gentle moan. Linhardt blew cool air into the ear, causing the boy beneath him to shiver.

He continued to trail his lips down Sylvain’s skin; along his jawline, down his perfect neck and to his exposed collarbone and chest. He kissed the skin over and over again, using his fingers to start to undo his button-up shirt. Sylvain shucked off his blazer, letting it fall around him and allowed Linhardt’s fingers to fly over his buttons, pulling his shirt open and exposing his chest.

The green-haired boy sank lower to kiss down the toned stomach and chest of the other, fluttering up and over his pectorals, settling on a nipple. He kissed around it then bit teasingly at it, eliciting a sharp gasp from Sylvain. He bit down on the back of knuckle to try and hold his voice back, pulling at the grass. Linhardt started to pull and untuck Sylvain’s shirt from his trousers, dancing further down his stomach.

“You… don’t have to, Lin,” Sylvain groaned out.

“Hmm… but I want to,” he replied, looking up with his eyes, running his tongue hotly along Sylvain’s waistline, dipping into his bellybutton. The redhead shuddered and put a hand into Linhardt’s hair, spreading some grass through it too but neither seemed to care.

Linhardt pulled Sylvain’s belt and zipper undone and pulled them down as the other lifted his behind off the ground just enough. Now in his underwear, Sylvain was suddenly nervous. He had received head, plenty of times, but once again, never from another boy. He knew that technically, it didn’t matter, and yet his heart absolutely thundering in his chest so loudly that he thought Linhardt might be able to hear.

“What shall I do to you, hmm?” Linhardt teased, grazing his fingers over the front Sylvain’s black underwear. He could feel the bulge beneath twitch and react eagerly to his touch and Sylvain’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Don’t… not now…”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

Sylvain bit on the back of his knuckle again and groaned. Linhardt smirked cheekily, hooking his fingers into the band of Sylvain’s underwear, tugging them down millimetre by millimetre, tortuously slow.

“Oh _Gods_… please, Lin… use your mouth, please,” Sylvain begged, clenching his fist white, leaning his head back against the tree again. Linhardt, happy with the request, hummed and finally pulled the underwear down enough to pull Sylvain’s cock free. It was fairly average with a decent length and girth but had a wonderful upwards angle and it curved so that the precum beaded on the top kissed his golden belly.

“Mmh,” Linhardt stuck his tongue out and ran it from balls to tip along Sylvain’s cock. His hazel eyes rolled back in his head and his jaw went slack, gasping, hand tugging at Linhardt’s green hair. Sylvain was trembling, his legs were absolutely shaking and so Linhardt placed one hand on his right thigh, squeezing reassuringly and took a gentle of his cock with his other hand.

The hot wet tongue swirling in circles around the head of his cock made Sylvain let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a moan and a choke. Linhardt’s lips kissed the head, collecting and tasting the pre-cum and Sylvain’s head rolled against his shoulders. He had never felt heat, pleasure nor torture like this before.

His hips bucked up impulsively when Linhardt’s mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. He let out a started groan as Linhardt sank deeper down his cock.

“H-Hah… Lin… your mouth is _so_ hot, it feels… so fucking good…”

The swear sounded filthy and Linhardt loved it, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose as he took in all that he comfortably could, finding his mouth had a comfortable stretch to accommodate Sylvain’s girth. He drew back and let saliva dribble out of his mouth, feeling equally as dirty as Sylvain’s language, watching the spit bubbles roll down and collect at the base of Sylvain’s dick.

“Please, _more_…” Sylvain begged.

Linhardt started to bob his head back and forth comfortably, pumping what he couldn’t take into his mouth with his hand. Sylvain was bucking his hips quickly, finding himself melting into the other’s boy’s mouth. If this what is what it felt like to be gay, then he was _definitely very gay._

“That’s it… keep going…” he groaned, tugging on Linhardt’s hair and pushing his head down deeper and faster. Linhardt let Sylvain use his mouth, holding onto both of the other’s thighs to steady himself, concentrating on breathing through his nose. The head of Sylvain’s cock brushed against the back of his throat over and over again until he couldn’t take it any longer and he thrust up into the back of Linhardt’s mouth.

The smaller boy choked and wrenched his eyes shut tightly, squeezing Sylvain’s thighs painfully until he let him go and pulled back with a heavy _pop,_ saliva dribbling down his chin. He was panting hard, but his head was swimming with lust. Sylvain looked equally as wrecked.

“You have to prepare me,” Linhardt said, shuffling backwards and laying on his back, stripping himself of his jacket, shirt and trousers as quickly as he could. Sylvain watched, captivated, lazily pumping his cock in one hand. Linhardt cast aside his underwear in a flash and Sylvain gawked at the other. Linhardt’s dick was slim and pretty, just like the rest of him: his cock was pale with a small pink head that barely peeked out from the foreskin wrapped snugly around it.

“Do you know what to do?” Linhardt asked, rearranging himself onto his hands and knees, using his elbows as a cushion. Sylvain nodded quickly and moved onto his hands and knees behind Linhardt. The other boy’s cock hung and pointed at the ground, bobbing as he wiggled his hips to tempt Sylvain.

He swallowed over the lump in his throat, drinking in the sight before him. Linhardt’s skin was white and he almost glowed in the sunlight dancing on his perfect back which Sylvain ran his golden hand over, absorbing the perfection of the submissive boy beneath him. He came to his ass, which was pert and immaculate, without a blemish or scar to it.

Sylvain’s hands came to rest on those cheeks and he greedily spread him apart. Linhardt mewled and bit his lip. Sylvain’s throat suddenly became parched, gazing at the winking pink hole of Linhardt’s ass; he had never wanted anything more in his life and so he drew up saliva, letting his mouth fall open and he licked a long stripe from Linhardt’s balls up to his hole. The boy beneath him let out a shaky gasp.

“O-Oh! S-Sylvain… that’s…”

“Mmh, do you like it?”

“Y-Yes… do it again.”

Sylvain ran his tongue over that wet line again, circling his tongue around Linhardt’s hole. He lathered it in his saliva, and it covered his mouth, cheeks and chin and he felt so obscene doing it and he absolutely loved it. Linhardt watched from over his shoulder, head pressed to the grass as Sylvain’s eyes slid shut and he proceeded to thoroughly enjoying eating out his ass.

“_A-Ah!_ That feels so good…! Sylvain!”

Sylvain’s tongue dipped into Linhardt’s hole, spreading it what little he could. Trying to breathe and relax, Sylvain could feel the hole relax and he drew back. He spat against it and Linhardt let out a high-pitched moan.

“You like that?” Sylvain asked, running his fingers through the laborious saliva rolling down the crack of Linhardt’s ass.

“Y-Yes, _Gods,_ do it again, _please._”

“Mmh… you’re filthy, Lin.” Sylvain spat against Linhardt’s hole again and the other trembled, legs quaking uncontrollably. Coating his fingers in the saliva, Sylvain pushed a single finger into Linhardt’s hole to the first knuckle. Linhardt bit his lip and breathed out and Sylvain took his chance to push his finger in deeper. He wiggled it a little and groaned at the tightness; he could only imagine how good it would feel to push his cock inside.

“More.”

Sylvain nodded, starting to thrust his finger in and out of the younger boy, enjoying the mewls that escaped his pink lips. He soon added a second finger and thrust them both in and out, pumping rhythmically.

“S-Sylvain…”

“Yeah?”

“You have to… scissor them… spread me open…”

“Oh _Gods_, you don’t have to ask twice,” Sylvain grunted, starting to scissor his fingers and spread Linhardt’s hole open. The boy beneath him clutched helplessly at the ground and his legs shook uncontrollably with the pleasure coursing through his body. He was entirely on fire with lava coiling in his gut and he wanted to tug at his cock but knew that if he did, it’d all be over way too soon.

Scissoring him wider, Sylvain dove back in and tongued the inside of Linhardt’s ass, drawing his face and fingers back at last to admire his handywork. He saw the hole quiver and he shivered, shifting upright on his knees, aligning himself with Linhardt’s hole. He couldn’t hold back anymore: his balls ached.

“Tell me you want it, Lin.”

“_Sylvain,_ please, give it to me. I feel so empty.”

“You are so fucking _filthy,_ Lin. I love it.” Sylvain held onto Linhardt’s ass with one hand, spreading his cheeks apart and used his other hand to guide himself into the younger boy’s stretched out, saliva-slicked asshole. Pushing just the head in, Sylvain’s eyes fluttered, and his teeth ground hard against one another. Linhardt let out a high-pitched whine and keened backwards, aching to fill himself with more of Sylvain’s cock.

The other eased himself in slowly: as desperate as he was, he didn’t want to hurt Linhardt and ruin everything. He had had sex before but, yep, you guessed it, never with a boy. Sylvain got about halfway before he leaned over Linhardt’s back and raked his nails down the other’s skin.

“How does that feel?”

“So good, _so good,_ please, keep going.”

“Mmh, as you wish.” Sylvain pushed in that little bit more until his hips were fully pressed against Linhardt’s ass. He was all the way inside and _gods,_ it felt incredibly, better than any girl he had ever been with. He wondered briefly if other men felt like this but found himself already starting to get addicted to Linhardt’s perfect body.

“Sylvain, move,” Linhardt begged, pleading with his eyes.

Nodding, Sylvain drew back and then pushed back in all the way. The stretch burned Linhardt’s hole, but it burned so good he craved more of it. His cock was aching, his balls were tense, and he reached beneath his own body to start pulling at his own cock, moving roughly and quickly.

Sylvain soon set a pace; one that was quick but deep, pumping in steadily and slapping against Linhardt’s ass each time. Sylvain’s nails sank into the perfect skin of his ass cheeks, sliding further up his body to grip and hold onto his narrow waist.

“_Gods,_ you’re beautiful, Lin.”

“Sylvain… o-oh, p-please… f-faster, I need more…”

Sylvain growled lowly, feeling the rumble in his chest and he slammed faster into Linhardt’s slim body. The boy beneath him cried out, hanging his head, hand pumping faster at his cock, drawing the foreskin back and squeezing around the ridge of the head. His whole body was shaking with pleasure, balls bouncing with the force of Sylvain’s desperate thrusts.

“Lin, you feel so good… _so good…_”

Sylvain leaned over Linhardt’s body, bucking his hips into him as he pressed kisses along his spine and against each vertebra he could find. His lips against his skin were burning hot, leaving blisters along Linhardt’s back. He was moaning uncontrollably now, synchronising with Sylvain’s heavy panting and low groaning.

Snaking around his lithe body, Sylvain’s hand wrapped around Linhardt’s cock. He was momentarily surprised by how natural it felt to do so and how the slender member was comfortable in his hand and he was spurred on by how Linhardt’s body bucked and he threw his head back.

“Cum for me, Lin… I wanna hear you cum…” Sylvain whispered against Linhardt’s skin. He was sweating uncontrollably, and it was rolling down his forehead, plastering his scarlet hair to his face. His vision was hazy, and he couldn’t think or see straight anymore: all he knew was that he wanted to fill Linhardt up with his seed.

“S-Sylvain… I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum, oh _Gods, Sylvain!_” Linhardt wailed, body arching and toes curling as he finally came into Sylvain’s hand, spurting cum into the grass beneath him and it trickled down his cock, coating the other’s fingers. The younger boy was light-headed, throat parched and knees aching and sore from being rubbed against the grass.

“Lin, Lin… you feel so _fucking_ good, I’m cumming too…! I’m gonna fill you up, _ah!_” Sylvain cried out. His thrusts slowed down and he pumped into the other boy slowly and deliberately, balls tightening and then finally emptying inside the other. Sylvain came hard and stars danced behind his eyelids as he let out a choked groan, the hand on Linhardt’s hip squeezing bone-crushingly hard.

“Oh… h-hah, I can feel it inside me…” Linhardt murmured in his post-orgasm stupor, the feeling of Sylvain’s thick cock pulsing inside of him making his cock throb. The two simply panted together, recovering as best they could until Sylvain drew out, cock coated in cum and saliva and he watched fascinated by the bubbles of cum that leaked out of Linhardt’s gaping hole.

“That’s… so dirty, Lin,” Sylvain breathlessly laughed. “How’re you gonna go back in this state?”

Linhardt rolled over onto his back at last, sighing in satisfaction and rested his hands on his stomach, laughing gently. “I’ll manage somehow. I’ll bathe when I get back.”

Sylvain crawled alongside Linhardt’s body and stroked the hair from his face, taking the long strands and inhaling his lavender scent again. They smiled at one another.

“Let’s go back, shall we? I’m starving.”

Linhardt nodded and with help from Sylvain, he sat back up. The pair dressed one another, sneaking a kiss where they could, unable to wipe the smiles from their faces. They walked back to the cathedral, hands held tightly until they got to the clearing, where Linhardt let go and put some distance between the pair.

Sylvain looked at him confused. “Why’d you let go?”

Linhardt turned red. “Oh, I thought you… uh… didn’t want to... in case others saw.”

“I never said I didn’t want to and I’ve never cared what others thought about me. C’mere.”

He took Sylvain’s delicate hand in his once more and they returned to the cathedral hand-in-hand, fingers interlocked.


End file.
